Broken
by Fire Of The Stars
Summary: 'He has broken her, and he doesn’t even care. He deserves everything she can throw at him.' What happens when simple revenge becomes so much more?
1. Prologue

  
  


She paces the floor frantically, periodically wiping the tears from her eyes. Her thoughts are all on him. How could he do this to her? She had shown him four years of devotion, and what did she get in return? Ignored. Rejected. She thought he was different. Surely he would see that there was more to her than meets the eye. But no, he had looked right through her, just like everyone else. _How could I have been so stupid?! Did I really think that he would suddenly notice me after all this time? _She crosses over to the mirror, closely examining her reflection. Her hair, once almost orange, now hangs in dark red waves to just below her shoulders. Wide brown eyes appear too big for her tiny features. Her ivory skin is sprinkled with freckles. She had always considered herself pretty, but now her reflection disgusts her. She finds herself hurling her fist into the mirror, the sound of breaking glass music to her ears. Then she sinks onto the floor, cradling her bloodied hand, and sobs.

  


*

  


She walks down the dark corridor. The darkness had always scared her, ever since her first year. But now it is comforting . She runs her hand along the rough stone wall. She doesn't know where in the castle she is, nor does she care. She is away from him. That is all that matters. Suddenly a cold voice cuts through the silence. 

  


"Well, well, what have we here?"

  


She looks around and sees a familiar figure staring back at her. His gaze is cold, sweeping over her entire body. He is a good several inches taller than her. It is not until the light reveals a glint of pale blond hair that she recognizes him. She tenses as he steps closer.

  


"The youngest Weasley out all alone after curfew," he continues. "Won't potter miss his traveling fan club?"

  


_No, he won't even notice._"Oh, and what are you doing in the halls, Malfoy? Some business for the Dark Lord, I presume."

  


He laughs softly. "Virginia, I suggest you get back to where you belong before I deduct house points."

  


"And where would that be?"

  


*

  


She lies awake, staring up at the ceiling, absently rubbing her injured hand. She thinks of him, of how much she is hurting because of him. She wants him to feel the pain he is inflicting on her. Then an image of Malfoy rises to her mind. Her face twists into a smile. 

  


*

  


"Good morning, Malfoy," she says curtly.

  


He looks up at her, shock playing over his features before his face hardens. . "What do you want, Weasley?"

  


"I need to speak with you for a moment." With that, she walks away, exiting the Great Hall. She leans against the wall. In an instant, he is standing in front of her.

  


"What the hell are you doing?!" 

  


She looks back at him with perfect innocence. "What do you mean?"

  


"You are a _Gryffindor_, damn it. You do not just waltz over to the Slytherin table where _anyone_ could see you!"

  


"Apparently I do." 

  


He glares at her. "Whatever Weasley. Just tell me why you dragged me out here."

  


"I have a proposition for you." 

  


*

  


"What makes you think I would go along with this little plan of yours?"

  


She looks up at him, smiling wickedly. "It's just a hunch."

  


"Why do you want to do this?"

  


She narrows her eyes. "Do you care?"

  


He shrugs. "I'm just curious as to what could possibly make his biggest fan want to do this to him."

  


"Malfoy, quite frankly, that is none of your business."

  


"Well, what's in it for me?"

  


"We have been over this," she says, sighing. "What else could you want?"

  


He inches closer to her, snaking an arm around her waist. "Do you really have to ask?"

  


She pushes him away, crossing her arms over her chest. "Malfoy, I'm not that desperate."

  


"Maybe not now."

  


"Whatever Malfoy. Do we have a deal or not?" She extends her hand. He looks down at the dried blood on her knuckles, and for an instant she thinks she sees concern flicker through the endless storm clouds of his eyes. But he simply takes her hand.

  


"I believe we do."

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Meetings and Mayhem

Chapter 1: Meetings and Mayhem

She wakes up as the first beams of light flood through her window. As she opens her eyes, a heavy feeling settles over her. Memories of yesterday rise to her mind. She looks down at her right hand, now bruised and swollen. _It really happened. _Today is when The Plan goes into action. _Can I really do this? I'm a Gryffindor, I'm not cunning. Can I really do this to him?_ Her gaze wonders to the shattered mirror. _Yes, I can, _she decides. He has broken her, and he doesn't even care. He deserves everything she can throw at him._ So why do I feel like this is wrong?_

  


She meets Malfoy outside the Great Hall after breakfast. 

  


"Did you do it?" he asks immediately. She nods almost imperceptibly, casting her eyes down. 

  


"What is it?" he asks, his voice edged with annoyance. She doesn't answer, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Without thinking, he lays a hand gently on her shoulder. Her eyes meet his, the soft brown orbs clouded and shimmering with tears. She is surprised to see his face soften, if only for an instant. 

  


"What's wrong?" he asks again.

  


"I don't know if I can do this."

  


"You already have."

  


Her face pales. "Yes, I suppose I have," she whispers.

  


"Look, Potter deserves anything you can throw at him. You have no reason to feel guilty."

  


"What do you know about guilt?" 

  


"More than you would think, Weasley."

  


She narrows her eyes in confusion at the almost sad tone of his voice. "Wh–What do you mean?"

  


He sneers at her. "None of your damn business. Are we done here? I have more important places to be."

  


"Then go."

  


"Fine," he hisses, "I will."

  


She closes her eyes against the angry slam of the door. _So I hit a nerve. Apparently there is more to the Slytherin King than meets the eye._

*

  
  


She saunters into the common room, a smug smile on her face. The smile grows as she notes that a pair of emerald eyes are trained upon her. They are practically burning holes into her skin. But as she turns to face their owner, he looks away hastily. She walks to his table, fixing her expression into the nervous one she frequently displayed not so long ago. 

  


"Do you mind if I sit with you?" she asks, speaking softly and giving him a doe eyed gaze.

  


"Uh– I mean– sure," he stutters, sweeping his books over to one side of the table. 

  


She represses the urge to laugh. The potion had begun to work fast, but the effects were subtle. He probably had no idea what was going through his head right now. _But I do, _she thought. A pang of guilt welled within her chest, but she pushed it down, recalling her self assurance that morning. He deserves this. She slides in beside him, letting her leg brush his. He tenses and his cheeks redden. _Score one for me. _

  


_Dear Diary,_

  


_ This is positively perfect! I have to admit, at first I felt incredibly guilty. But what do I have to feel remorse for? What have I done? Nothing. _Absolutely nothing. _He is the one who should be sorry. But is he? No. But he will be. Once this potion takes full effect, that's when the real fun begins. Malfoy says that day is at least a week away. Well, I can wait. And when my time comes, he will regret ever having ignored me._

  
  
  



	3. Watching

Chapter 2: 

  


"So how is it going?" he asks.

  


"Better than I could ever have imagined," she replies, her chocolate eyes gleaming. Full of pride. But beneath that lay the questions he always sees when their eyes meet. She is trying to figure him out. He hates it. He tears his gaze away, letting it roam over her body. He smirks to himself as she crosses her arms over her chest. _Keep trying to fight it, Red. Sooner or later you'll give in. _But does he want her to? He shakes his head slightly, burying that thought. _That is absurd._ He arches an eyebrow in a signal for her to continue.

  


"He's making a complete prat of himself! He tripped yesterday, Malfoy. Tripped! All because I winked at him. He's trying to fight the potion. He won't even look at me directly. But it's working." She said all of this very fast and broke into a grin. 

  


"Don't get too cocky, Weasley. You still don't know if things will go according to plan."

  


"Of course it will, Malfoy. Haven't you ever heard of karma?"

  


"Yes, I have. But it also ensures that you will get some karmic return of your own." 

  


Her face turns to stone, her eyes shooting daggers at him. "I am just doing what I have to," she says in a slow, calm voice. "Speaking of which, aren't you due for some payback as well?"

  


He doesn't respond. Something inside of him snaps at her comment. He wants to tell her everything. She would understand, this he knows.

  


She yawns, then says, "I'm tired Malfoy. I'll see you tomorrow." In a flash of black and red, she is gone.

  


*

  


He watches the Gryffindor table. She is right, he admits to himself. Potter is all but stumbling over himself as she laughs and tosses her hair. So far, his elbow has found the gravy bowl three times. His fork keeps missing his mouth, as Ginny turns and smiles at him just as he prepares to take a bite. The whole of Slytherin house is taking in the show. The Weasel and Granger are gaping at their friend, their expression mixed with shock, amusement, and concern. 

  


"What is he _doing_?" Pansy exclaims from his left. 

  


"Always knew he was an idiot. This just proves it," another voice says. 

  


Even the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs are whispering amongst themselves, casting scrutinizing glances in Harry's direction. Amidst the chaos, Ginny's eyes meet his. They share a knowing smile before turning their attention back to their own tables. _Damn she's good. _


	4. Darkness

Chapter 3: Darkness

  


She bounds down the winding staircase, humming softly to herself. He sees her and his eyes widen behind his glasses. She smiles sweetly in his direction, appearing completely oblivious to his astonished stare. Ron rushes over to her, his cheeks aflame.

  


"Ginny, you had better go put on your robes this instant," he demands in a low voice, anxiously looking around the common room. Seamus Finnigan abruptly redirects his stare to the table in front of him. 

  


She puts her hands on her hips."Why, oh brother of mine?" she retorts, her voice dripping with disdain. 

  


He narrows his brown eyes, a shade lighter than hers. "Because, you look like a– a _scarlet woman_!"__

  


She laughs bitterly. "Oh, Ron, grow up." With that, she pushes past him and makes her way to the table Harry is sharing with Hermione.

  


She sits down beside Harry, letting her hair fall onto his shoulder. He glances her way, ans she can swear she hears his heart pounding. The, hesitantly, he reaches out and pushes it away, letting his fingers get momentarily tangled in the ruby waves. She nearly shudders at his touch. What had she ever found attractive about him? He looks amazed at his own actions, staring at his hand as if it is a stranger. She stretches her legs under the table, then pulls them back in close to her. Her right foot 'accidentally' brushes against his ankle. She laughs nervously and mumbles a weak apology. He is frozen, his hand tightly gripping his quill, until Hermione taps him on the shoulder. 

  


"Harry, we have to get to work."

  


He nods emphatically, putting as much distance as he can between himself and Ginny. __

  


"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I'll just be going then." She swiftly walks away, her hands flying to her hair. She must get it washed_, _and quickly.__

_ *_

  


"So, how is my little temptress doing?"__

  


She looks back at him calmly. "'_Your_' little temptress?"

  


He advances on her. "Come on, Red. You know you couldn't do this without me." 

  


He is directly in front of her now, his hands resting on either side of her, flat against the cold table she is perched upon. Their faces are dangerously close. He curses himself for the thoughts running through his mind, but at the same time wonders if she is having them as well. She searches his eyes. The same old routine. The same unspoken questions, still unanswered. But, to his annoyance, he finds that the endless depths of her eyes are wearing him down. Last time, he had almost told her everything. But she had left before he could. 

  


She shifts and lies down on the table top, her open robes revealing a fitted white shirt. She looks up at the ceiling, silent for a while. Finally, she turns her eyes back to him. 

  


"You're right," she whispers. 

  


The next few minutes are filled with tense silence. He turns over an idea in his mind. His voice, tinged with uncertainty, breaks the still air.

  


"Virginia, Saturday is the first trip to Hogsmeade, and I was wondering . . ."

  


She sits up and casts him a suspicious glance. "Draco, are you asking me out?"

  


"I–uh–yes, I suppose I a— Wait! You called me by my first name." He sounds amused.

  


She shrugs her shoulders. "Yeah, well, you called me Virginia. " She hops down, straightening her clothes and pushing her still wet hair out of her face. She holds a piece in front of her face, looking at it with distaste. 

  


He crosses his arms . "What?"

  


"I washed it, but I still feel him on it." She groans.

  


He chuckles. "You're going to have to get used to it, Red. It will all be worth it."

  


"It had better be."

  


"It will. The effect has increased, right?"

  


"Yes, but the little jerk is still fighting." She frowns.

  


"It's only been a few days. Soon, he won't be able to fight it, I don't care how great of a wizard he is."

  


A sigh. It does funny things to his stomach. _Stop that this instant! _She begins to walk toward the door, then turns to face him again. "Thanks. Well, I'll see you tomorrow." She points her wand at the door and mutters, "Finite Incantatum." The lock springs open, and she steps outside. 

  


"Oh, bye the way, my answer is yes." She speaks over her shoulder, then disappears. 

  
  
  
  



	5. Expectations

Chapter 4:Expectations

  


"Uh, hi Ginny."

  


She looks up from her book and forces herself to smile. "Hullo, Harry."

  


He opens his mouth as if to say more, but no sound comes out. 

  


"Is there something you needed?" she asks, working to keep her voice level. 

  


"Uh– um– Wannagohogsmeadewime?"

  


"Pardon?" 

  


He takes in a deep breath. "Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?"

  


"I'm sorry, Harry," she says, even though she isn't. "I've already agreed to go with someone else." His face darkens.

  


"Oh."

  


"Maybe next time." _Yeah, right. _

  


"Yeah." He turns to walk away, then stops. "Hey, Ginny?"

  


"Hmm?"

  


"Who are you going with?"

  


"It's a surprise." _Understatement of the century. _

  


"Oh, ok then," he says quietly. She wants to laugh as she realizes that he is very close to tears. "See you tomorrow."

  


She nods and then returns to her book. 

  


_Dear Diary,_

  


_Ok, so I have a date with Draco Malfoy. Last person you would expect, right? Well, I'm also the last person you would expect to try to destroy Harry Potter. Things change, I guess. Also, I get the feeling that Draco and I have a lot in common, not that I would ever tell him that. Everyone sees me as innocent. They like to forget the unpleasant things that happened in my first year here. I've always wondered if there's something evil in me. Tom told me that there was. That I was special, and no one could see it but him. Maybe he was right. And maybe there is something in Draco. Something good. Maybe not. Whatever the case, this will certainly help things along a bit. Harry will flip when he sees me with him. And if I can get Malfoy to stop being such a supreme ass along the way, then so be it. My day is approaching. By this time next week, Harry will be a broken man. And I will be complete. If this is what Tom meant, it' s not so bad. _

  


_ *_

  


_ I don't know what she wants from me. Why does she look at me the way she does? The worry and suspicion in her eyes is infuriating. Why does she think she can get answers from me?_ He rakes a hand through his silver hair. _Why did I ask her? _He thought of the way she had looked, stretched out on the table. Her robes opening to reveal the clingy white shirt and black skirt that showed her pale legs, her wet hair fanned out behind her. And when she had turned her wide, kohl rimmed eyes onto him, he had felt like she was looking right through him. He wondered whether she had always been this way and he had failed to notice. Normally, he wouldn't waste his thoughts on a Weasley, but she was different. Sure, she had the famous Weasley temper. But there was something about her . . . _Bloody hell! Why can't I stop this? In a week, she'll have what she wants, and we will probably never speak again. Then this will all be over._ _Damn it, if only I could tell her. If only I could tell anyone. But I can't. I am a Malfoy. I'm expected to be strong. _

  
  
  



	6. Right and Wrong

Chapter 5: Right and Wrong

  
  


She opens her eyes and smiles. Today is her date with Draco. She isn't exactly sure why, but her stomach is doing back flips. She chalks it up to nerves and hops out of bed, kneeling before her chest. She rummages through it for a few minutes, then pulls out a pair of dark jeans and a blue Muggle style shirt. She has arranged to meet Draco immediately after breakfast, so she doesn't have a lot of time. She dresses quickly, applying a lip reddening charm and the eye liner Hermione had given her for her birthday. When she enters the common room, it is empty. _Pity, _she thinks. _I would have loved to see Harry goggling over me. But I suppose there will be plenty of time for that when he sees me with Draco. _

  


She doesn't see Draco in the Great Hall. She stands in front of the door, tapping her foot impatiently. _He better not be standing me up. He asked me out. _She feels the warmth of arms wrapping around her waist. She rolls her eyes and breaks out of the strong grip. He smirks at her.

  


"Good morning, Virginia."

  


"Draco."

  


He stands back and hungrily takes in her appearance."Looking stunning as always, I see."

  


She shrugs, but can feel the heat rising to her face. No one has ever complimented her like that. And it was even more shocking to hear it from a Malfoy. "Shall we go then?"

  


He nods and offers her his arm. She hesitates before sliding her arm through his.

  
  
  


The Three Broomsticks is crowded with students, the air thick with mixed perfumes and shouted orders. She sits across from him at a corner table, sipping her Butterbeer. Over her glass, she could see him watching her intently, frowning slightly. 

  


"Is something wrong?" she asks finally. 

  


He looks confused. "What do you mean?"

  


"You're staring at me," she says airily. "And I know it's nothing wrong with me."

  


He scowls at her. "Of course, because you know everything. Or at least you think you do."

  


"No, but I know when someone is trying to avoid a topic."

  


"Then let it drop."

  


She sighs. "I'm afraid I can't do that."

  


"Damn you," he says through gritted teeth.

  


"What?" He meets her brown eyes, dancing with amusement. 

  


"Damn you!" he shouts. He stands up, knocking his chair over."You think you can read me like a fucking book!" She leans back to regard him, her carmine lips pressed into something resembling a pout. He continues in a softer, but no less hostile voice. "You want to figure me out? Huh? Well, let me save you some time. Your idiot brother and his friends are right about me, Red. I am fucking evil. I would kill you in a heartbeat and never even think twice." He realizes two things then. One: the whole pub has turned to watch him, their eyes wide. Two: She is laughing, a high, clear sound tumbling from her full lips. He picks his chair up and sits back down.

  


"What the hell are you laughing at?"

  


"You are wrong, about so many things."

  


He gives her a bewildered look.

  


" One, I don't think I can read you. No one can. And, even if I want to, you can't say you don't want it as well. Two, I know that they were right about you. Why do you think I came to you for help with this? And three, you wouldn't hurt me."

  


"How can you know that?"

  


"Because, you're not your father." her voice is barely above a whisper, and he feels a strange feeling sweep through him. He can see her hand inching toward his, a slow smile spreading over her face–

  


"Ginny?!"

  


He almost groans out loud as an all too familiar voice cuts through the air. He sees her go rigid in her chair, all traces of a smile quickly fading from her face. In an instant, Potter is at their table, his bright eyes flashing with fury. He is quickly joined by Granger and Ginny's brother, Ron. 

  


"Ginny, what the hell are you doing here with–with _him?_" Ron screeches. She glares at him before turning doe eyes on Harry. Draco tries to quell the sick churning in the pit of his stomach. 

  


She expected anger. She anticipated disappointment. But the one thing she wasn't prepared for was the cold, detached rage visible on his face. He grabs her arm roughly. 

  


"Come on, Ginny. Let's go." His voice could cut steel. 

  


"No, Harry. I want so stay. I'm sorry that I couldn't go with you, but Draco asked me first." She speaks weakly, trying to pull herself free, but his grip is like iron. Ron and Hermione are apparently frozen to the spot, their eyes wide.

  


"Ginny, I don't think you heard me. _Let's go._"

  


This is really beginning to scare her. She opens her mouth to refuse again, but no sound comes out. She closes her eyes against the forming tears, the pain in her arm growing more intense. Suddenly, she hears a rush of air, a gasp, and she is free. 

  


She begins to walk away, but Harry catches his hand in her hair. She stumbles and falls, her head connecting with the floor. Ignoring the overwhelming dizziness, she opens her stinging eyes. Hermione is crying softly, Ron looking as though he might be sick. And on the floor, Harry has Draco pinned, punching him repeatedly in the face. He must hear her move, though, because his fist pauses in mid-air and he turns to look at her, his face splitting into a twisted grin. He steps away from Draco and advances on her.

  


He kneels before her, running a hand softly down her cheek. She shudders and clenches her eyes shut. She is eleven years old again, locked in the dark chamber. His hand moves to the back of her neck. She waits and prays for it to be over. She feels a sharp pain as he slams the back of her head against the floor. Then again. She bites her tongue and feels blood filling her mouth. He is yelling at her, the words distant but still clear.

  


"You are a slut, Ginny! How could you do this to me?"

  


It continues for what feels like an eternity. She is getting very tired, her mind foggy. And then the darkness comes. 

  
  



	7. Awakening

Chapter 6: Awakening

  


She blinks herself awake. Slowly, she realizes that she is not in her bedroom. The hangings around her are a deep green. Pain starts at her head and courses through the rest of her body. She begins to sit up and finds herself level with a pair of grey eyes.

  


"Wh–where am I?"

  


His eyes are full of concern, and it shakes her to the core. He is not the concerned type. "Slytherin Tower. My bedroom, to be precise."

  


She smirks at him, bringing a small hand to her head. "And how exactly did I end up here?"

  


His eyes cloud as he says, "Potter went absolutely ballistic. I tried to distract him, but he didn't want me. He punched the daylights out of me, though. I saw him slamming your head against the floor, with the whole bloody pub watching. Not one soul was helping you. Not one . . ." His voice begins to crack and he takes a deep breath. "I couldn't get to you, Red. By the time I could, you had passed out. He was holding you, whispering something in your ear. That's when that wonderful brother of your decided to step in and help. He pulled Potter off of you and let me carry you out. I couldn't let you go anywhere where he could hurt you. So I brought you here. You slept all day."

  


She looks up at him. His face is smeared with dried blood, a nasty cut lining his forehead. She tentatively runs her finger across it and his eyes go wide. 

  


"You're hurt." 

  


He shrugs. "It's nothing. I'm fine."

  


"It's not."

  


"You're the one who nearly died, Red."

  


She tries not to show how much that realization affects her, simply places her hand over his.

  


"And you took care of me, now let me take care of you."

  


She searches his eyes, pleading silently. Begrudgingly, he nods. She mutters a spell under her breath and a bowl of water appears in front of her. Another few words and there are clean cloths, bandages, and pain relieving potions. She begins to work. They sit in silence for a while, before he finally speaks.

  


"I'm sorry." he whispers.

  


She glances at him inquiringly.

  


"For what I said . . . You were right."

  


He winces as a stinging potion comes into contact with his wounds. Then he feels gentle breath on his skin where the potion had been. He fights down the desire rising within him. Now is not the time. "I wouldn't hurt you."

  


She doesn't say anything, a sign for him to continue. "I just got so damn angry because I want to tell you everything and I can't."

  


Her fingers stop moving against his skin and she leans down to peer into his eyes. "Why can't you?"

As he gazes into the infinite pools of brown, he asks himself the same thing.

  


He is vaguely aware of her hand creeping up his sleeve. He wants to stop her, but he is frozen. And then she tenses, and he knows she has seen it. She pulls away from him.

  


"The Dark Mark," she whispers, her voice full of disbelief and horror.

  


"Don't tell me your brother hasn't told you about my family."

  


"H–he has. But I've n–never seen it before."

  


Her eyes are filling with tears as she searches his face. "You didn't want it." It is not a question.

  


He shakes his head. "I didn't have a choice. It had been planned since I was born."

  


"You never have a choice with Tom."

  


He realizes what she is talking about, remembering that she, too, was a servant against her will.

  


"He told me I was evil, Draco. Maybe he's right." She pulls her knees close to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs.

  


"He wasn't."

  


She doesn't seem to hear him. "Look at what I've done . . . Harry, he's . . . I wanted him to hurt. I wanted to destroy him. He was right, he was right . . ." She is sobbing now. "This is why . . . He told me, he told me I was invisible. I'm meant to be alone . . . Why didn't I listen?" 

  


Without thinking, he sits down beside her, wrapping his arms around her. He embraces her trembling form, smoothing her soft red hair back from her face. 

  


"He was wrong, so wrong," he whispers against her skin. 

  


He holds her until the sobs subside. She lays her head on his shoulder, the tender gesture surprising them both. He can feel her breath upon his neck, her hair tickling his skin. They sit this way for a while, until her breathing becomes slow and steady. He looks down to see her eyes closed, her pale, tear stained face relaxed. His heart does a funny thing as he watches her sleep. Sighing, he wraps a blanket around her shoulders. She shifts, her hand finding his chest. Warmth washes over him. _This has been a very interesting day. _


	8. Unsteady

Chapter 7: Unsteady

  


She hesitates outside the portrait hole. Should she really go in? What if he hurts her again? _Stop being a coward. It's breakfast time, he won't even be there. _Taking in a deep breath, she mutters, "Cornish pixies." The portrait swings back to allow her entrance. Now that she is inside, her fear is subsiding. She only has to stay for a few moments. She thinks back to earlier that morning. Draco had offered to let her stay with him, at least until they figured out what was wrong with Harry and reversed it. She makes her way to her bedroom. The mirror has been repaired, she suspects by Hermione. Anger rises within her, thinking of how Ron and Hermione had done nothing to help her in the Three Broomsticks. It just proved how alone she was. _No, you still have Draco, _a voice inside her says. _But how much can I trust him? _Her thoughts turn to last night's conversation and waking up in his arms. It was the last thing she had expected. And then, he had smiled at her. A lazy, sleepy smile. Not one of his trademark smirks. Thinking about it had a funny effect on her, as if she had been spinning for a good while.

  


She empties her chest into the bag Draco provided and sweeps the contents off of her vanity. She moves toward the door, but stops dead when she hears approaching footsteps. Panic overwhelms her as she thinks of her head being slammed repeatedly against a hard floor. Her fear grows into terror as he stands before her, his green eyes gleaming from behind his glasses. The corners of his mouth curve upward, but she can't call it a smile. He seems eerily calm. 

  


"Hello, Ginny." His voice is flat, hollow. She feels a chill run down her spine. She fights to keep her composure.

  


"Hello, Harry."

  


"I missed you last night," he says, stepping closer to her. Instinctively, she takes a step back.

  


"Oh, I . . ." She bites her lip, not sure what to say. She doesn't want to give him a reason to hurt her.

  


"It was so rude of Draco to whisk you away like that. You look beautiful when you're sleeping, did you know that?"

  


She shakes her head slightly, causing a flash of pain to jolt through her. She winces, her hand going to the back of her head.

  


His eyes soften. "I hurt you didn't I?"

  


She nods almost imperceptibly.

  


"I'm sorry. I would never do anything to hurt you, Ginny." He reaches a hand out toward her face. 

  


"I–I have to go now, Harry. I have to go."

  


His hand stops less than an inch away from her and drops to his side. "Alright then." He steps back, allowing her freedom to walk away. As she does, she is terrified that he will stop her, but he doesn't. Once through the portrait hole, she breaks into a run, wanting to put as much space between them as possible. 

  


She reaches the dungeons, where Draco is waiting for her. He looks at her in surprise as she collapses into his open arms. He realizes that she is trembling. He hold her away from him.

  


"What happened? Was he there?" he asks.

  


"No, Draco. I just saw the boogie man," she snaps. He can't help but notice that her voice is unsteady.

  


He narrows his eyes angrily. "What did he do to you? I swear if that little Pothead has touched you I'll kill him. In now some good curses."

  


She puts her hand on his chest. "No, he didn't _do _anything but scare the hell out of me."

  


"So he's normal again?" Draco asks skeptically. 

  


"Normal is an overstatement. His voice was all weird. Flat. And his eyes . . ." She shudders. "But he didn't touch me. He apologized for hurting me, but said it was rude of you to take me away."

  


"Does he not fucking realize that he could have killed you? Damn, Potter has really gone nuts."

  


She nods and sighs. _He was fine before. A jerk, and kind of dense, sure. But he wasn't psychotic. It's like he's fucking obsessed with me._ Her ash brown eyes widen as a realization dawns on her.

  


"Oh crap . . ."

  


Draco gives her a bewildered look. "What?"

  


"The potion. He was fine before he took the potion."

  


"Ginny, it's a love potion, not a recipe for serial killers," he replied.

  


"But surely there have been times when the potion went wrong? I mean, what if you messed up one an instruction," she said, her voice was rising with panic.

  


"I resent that remark. I am the best student in my house."

  


"Merlin, Draco, even Hermione makes mistakes sometimes."

  


"Ok, ok," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. "I'll look into it."

  


"Good." 


	9. The Edge

Chapter 8: The Edge

  


"Virginia?"

  


She turns to face him. "Yes?"

  


"Calm down," he says, smirking.

  


"I am perfectly calm, Draco. I don't know what you mean," she replies, narrowing her eyes. 

  


He laughs softly. "I can hear you sighing."

  


"Ok, I am a little on edge. But can you blame me? He almost _killed _me, Draco. If we don't find out what went wrong, and soon . . ."

  


He suddenly finds that his hand is on her cheek, her eyes boring into his. "Nothing is going to happen to you. I won't let it," he whispers, his voice low and husky. 

  


She feels warmth spread through her at the intensity in his voice. Somehow she finds her voice. _Me, speechless? Now that is scary. _"Why do you care what happens to me?"

  


He can't find the answer, though many are swimming through his head. His face is inching toward hers, his body screaming out to be closer to her. 

  


He leans in toward her and she tilts her face up in response. Hated pleasure courses through her. Before her eyes flutter closed, she is struck by the unguarded longing in his silver eyes. Then, as gentle as a butterfly's wings, his lips brush across her forehead. She opens her eyes to look at him, but he has turned away from her. She sighs and shifts so that her back is to him, scolding herself for the disappointment bearing down on her. _This is bloody Malfoy we are talking about. I do not, I repeat, NOT want to kiss him. He's a git. Ok, maybe not a git. That's reserved for Harry and my idiotic brother Ron. And, okay, he has been acting very un-Malfoy like for the past few days, but that doesn't mean anything. Right? _

  


_Stupid, stupid, STUPID! I can't believe I almost kissed her! Come on, Draco, get a hold of yourself. Okay, so she is kind of pretty. And you certainly don't see Gryffindor girls with that kind of attitude often. And the things she does to me . . . _He represses a groan, running a hand over his face. He is all too aware of how close she is, and no matter how much he argues with himself, his body still aches to be as close to her as he can get._ I'm not so sure she hasn't used a love potion on me. What else can explain this? Surely it's not that I actually care about her. I'm a Malfoy. I only care about myself. And no girl is going to change that. _

_ *_

  


They sit in the library, books spread out between them, attempting to locate the potion she had used on Harry. She is completely immersed in a rather large volume about dark spells, her eyes flickering over the pages. He is trying to concentrate on the book in front of him, but finds himself immersed in watching her. After a few moments, she sighs and slams the book closed. As her gaze travels to him, he quickly glues his eyes to the text before him. 

  


"Nothing," she says, putting both hands to her forehead. "All of these books and we've found nothing! I give up!" She rises to her feet and stalks toward him, prepared to leave. When she glances hi way, however, she stops in her tracks. "Wait . . . Is that it? I think that's it." 

  


She points at the open book and he nearly jumps as he takes in the familiar writing. e nods and she slides into the chair beside him, leaning over him.

  


"_Citatio Adamo is a potent love potion, unknown to many. The potion induces feelings of love within the subject. It works through either ingestion or being inhaled." _She stops and looks at him. "So I needn't have gone through all the trouble of slipping it into his pumpkin juice. I could have just mixed it in with my perfume."__

  


"Well, yes, you could have, but there are two problems with that. First of all, I was the one to make it and let me tell you, it smells awful. Secondly, had you done that, over half of the school would be affected. Every male in school would be in love with you."

  


She snickers. "That wouldn't have been so bad."

  


"Just read it already," he snaps.

  


She rolls her eyes and continues reading. "_The effects are more gradual than most potions of its kind, taking up to a week to reach its full strength. When this happens, the subject will forget that there was ever a time when they were not in love._" She scans the rest of the page. "Blah blah blah . . . very powerful . . . Wait." Her face falls.

  


"What is it?" he asks. She simply shakes her head, her eyes unfocused. He leans forward and reads silently. As he reaches the fine print near the bottom of the page, he feels sick. 

  


"_Although usually harmless, this potion can have extreme and unwanted effects. In the case that the subject already has feelings for the giver, however mild or hidden they may be, the potion is highly dangerous. The feelings are multiplied, causing the subject to exhibit obsessive and sometimes violent behavior,_" he reads. 

  


"Draco, how do we make it go away?" she asks after a few minutes of silence. Her voice is weak and shaky. 

  


"It–it doesn't say."

  


She stands up, glaring at him. "What do you mean, it doesn't say? There has to be a way, there has to be! Come on, Mr- best-student-in -Slytherin. You're smart! Find a cure!" 

  


She is shouting, her eyes filling with tears. Part of him wants to shout something back at her. Instead, he jumps to his feet and wraps his arms around her. _What are you doing? This is not good, not good at all. _

  


"I will, ok. But not now. I'll get to it first thing tomorrow morning."

  


She relaxes a bit in his grip and he pulls away to look at her. There is fear in her ash brown eyes. Fear, confusion, and another emotion he can't identify, burning brighter than the rest. "Come on, Red. Let's go get some sleep." She doesn't respond, but allows herself to be led out of the library and toward the dungeons. __

  



	10. Ironic

Chapter 9: Ironic

  


She writhes, kicking the blankets from her legs. Her eyes are clenched shut, blood on her lip. She is biting down to keep from screaming. 

  


_It is dark, so dark. She is searching for an opening, a beam of light in this oblivion. But there is none. His voice taunts her, his strong arms holding her firmly in place. It will all be over soon, he promises. Don't you want to be with me, Ginny? This is the only way. Her strength is fading. With the last of her voice, she cries out . . ._

  


"_NO! _I don't want to go . . . No . . ." Her eyes shoot open. The room is dark. Panic grips her, but then she becomes aware of a hand resting on her shoulder. She moves closer to the warmth of the other body. It is a welcome change from the cold chamber. 

  


He holds her close to him. He can feel hot tears soaking his shirt. Her skin is ice cold and she is shivering. She closes her eyes as she leans into him. _If anyone had told me a week ago that tonight I'd be in a bed with Ginny Weasley, I would have laughed in their face, _he thought. _And now I don't want to be anywhere else. Ironic, isn't it. _ Soon exhaustion settles over him and he gives in. He falls asleep with his arms still wrapped protectively around her. 

  


*

  


"Damn it!" he throws the heavy, leather bound book aside. It was of no use to him, just like all the others. He glances down at the large pile of old and worn books standing high beside the table. He thinks of her, her dark eyes shimmering with tears. She feels responsible for what was happening. She thinks she is evil. He has to find this cure. For her. He almost laughes out loud as he realizes that, for possibly the first time in his life, he is working for someone else's happiness. _Not just anyone. A Weasley. _He sighs and opens the next book. He rubs his temples to fight off the beginning of a headache. _Just one more book. Then I'll go back._

  


*

  


She sits alone in the astronomy tower, looking out at the stars. She sighs and rubs her arms in an attempt to keep warm. Draco is in the library, as he has been all day. Searching for the antidote. She had skipped lunch, as she didn't like the idea of sitting that close to Harry without Draco nearby. She pulls her knees close to her body and closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling of the soft breeze on her skin. 

  


She nearly jumps when she hears the faint sound of approaching footsteps. _Maybe it's Draco, _she thinks hopefully. But the next sound extinguishes that optimism. It's humming. Draco does not hum. The low, soft sound is coming closer. _Ok, calm down. It could be anyone. Stop panicking. _The footsteps stop in front of the door. After a moment, the door is pushed open. Her eyes widen as the figure steps into the small room with her.

  
  
  
  



	11. Pure

Chapter 10: Pure

  


She stands to face him. His features are like stone. Impassive. His intent stare is unnerving. 

  


"What do you want?" she asks, struggling to keep the fear out of her voice. 

  


He doesn't answer, stepping closer to her and closing the door behind him. She flattens herself against the wall, closing her eyes. When he reaches her, his thumb brushes across her cheek. His touch is cold. And then he crushes his lips against her own. His mouth is hot, suffocating. He presses himself against her, kissing her fiercely. She tries to push him away, but he is too strong. She is crying now. He pulls his face from hers to look into her eyes. He frowns at the tears steaming down her cheeks. He opens his mouth to speak, and she drives her knee into his stomach. He doubles over, gasping for breath. She stands, frozen, for a moment, before she regains her senses and runs. 

  


She runs until she reaches a dark corner near the dungeons. She slides down onto the floor and curls into a ball. She is shaking madly. _He's going to find me. There is no way I can get to Draco before he catches me. That's not Harry. Oh god, what did I do? Tom was right. I am alone. And I deserve it. _She sobs softly. _It's only a matter of time. He's coming for me. What will he do to me? _She closes her eyes, absorbed in her thoughts, and waits. 

  


It seems like an eternity before she hears him approaching. First, the soft tapping of his shoes on the stone. Then, the low whisper.

  


"Ginny?"

  


His voice is wrong. Too calm. Smooth. The sound of it chills her to the bone. She wants to run, but she knows it will only lead him to her faster. _Maybe he won't find me. _But it is at that instant that a pair of forest green eyes meets her ash brown ones. 

  


"I've found you."

  


She recoils from his outstretched hand. 

  


"Come on, Ginny. Why won't you give me a chance. He's not good for you. You know that. Let me take care of you."

  


She swallows the bile rising in her throat. This is what she created. She must face it. "No, Harry. No."

  


His eyes flash and pure, ice cold terror sweeps through her. He points his wand at her and mutters a spell under his breath. She is thrown backward, her body colliding with the wall. Pain shoots through her. He advances on her.

  


"Why are you making me do this, Ginny? Just let me have a chance. I'll make you happy. I promise." 

  


Gathering all of her strength, she punches him in the nose. _Well done, Ginny. Let's see how much we can tick off the psycho, shall we. _Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, she tries to put some distance between them. She is a few feet away when she feels a jerk on her ankle. She falls onto her back. In an instant, he is hovering over her. Blood is dripping from his nose, his eyes gleaming maniacally. His knees are on either side of her, his hands on her shoulders. 

  


"You're not being very nice Ginny."

  


Before she can respond, his hands wrap around her throat. She looks up at him pleadingly. He simply frowns down at her and says, "I'm sorry." 

  


She struggles at first, scratching his arms until they bleed. She tries to cry out, but she cannot speak. Her throat is closing under his grip. Her head is spinning. She expects darkness, but instead there is light. Pure, white light. The pressure of his hands is fading. There is suddenly a blinding flash that explodes into dazzling colors. They swim before her. _Beautiful, _she thinks. And then she knows no more. 


	12. Epilogue: Picking Up The Pieces

Epilogue: Picking Up The Pieces

  


_Dear Virginia,_

  


_ Well, you did it. You broke him. The Boy-Who-Lived is no more. I found the antidote that night. Just like I promised. I was on my way to give it to you when I found him. He was huddled over you, his hands around your neck. It was then that I dropped the bottle. One whiff of the antidote and he was himself again. Except that he wasn't. He never will be. At least, that's what Dumbledore said. I'll never forget the look on his face when he realized what he had done. He looked down at you, then at his hands. And he hated himself. I saw it in his eyes. The same look I see whenever I look in the mirror now. _

  


_ Your brother hasn't spoken to anyone since he found out. He blames Potter. He blames me. But most of all, I think he blames himself. People are saying he talks in his sleep now, much like you used to. He apologizes to you, they say. By now everyone knows about the incident in the Three Broomsticks. And of course, all of them wonder why he didn't do something then. I wonder that myself. _

  


_ Damn it, Red, this wasn't supposed to happen! I was supposed t give Potter the antidote, then tell you . . . Well, I don't guess it matters now what I was planning to tell you, does it? I wish I could finish that kiss that we started. I wish I had gotten to know you sooner. I got one week with you. One week with the only woman I'll ever . . . Bloody hell, I am NOT going to cry. Not here. I have mourned for you, Ginny. Every night I sit in my– OUR– bed, and I think of how it should have been. I should have taken you with me to the library that night. Then you would still be here. _

  


_ I wake up every morning and I can almost feel you next to me. I think I'm going fucking crazy. Maybe I should be in St Mungo's with Potter. He has been there for almost a month now. Ever since he tried to perform Avada Kedavra on himself. He loved you. I know that because I heard him whisper it into your ear before Dumbledore led us away from your body. But he wasn't the only one, Red. That's what I wanted to tell you that night. You did something to me that no one else ever has or ever will be able to. When you smiled it was like the sun got brighter. And when you cried I wanted to die. Anything to take your tears away. Bloody hell, now I sound like a fool. See what you do? If you were here, I know you would be looking at me with that amused glint in your eyes. But you're not here. And you never will be again. Is it beautiful there__? I promise you one thing, Red. If, by some small miracle, I end up where I know you are, I'll tell you everything. And you know I am a man of my word. So, until I see you again , I'll be missing you. _

  


_-Draco Malfoy-_


End file.
